Love, Coffee and Polaroids
by creamcheesecake
Summary: A female French journalist and a freelance photographer, Arieanna makes L Lawliet as the subject of her photography as he seldom rings the bells from her forgotten past. And it turns out that L knows better. LxOC. There'll be blood and crime.
1. Prompt 01, Ill Mornings

**Love, Coffee and Polaroids**

A female French journalist and a freelance photographer, Arieanna makes L Lawliet as the subject of her photography as he seldom rings the bells from her forgotten past. And it turns out that L knows better. LxOC.

_Hope you'll enjoy reading. And hopefully too I can improve my English by this. R&R, peeps. :)_ **-The author**

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**Prompt 1: Ill mornings**

**"_Arieanna."_**

Her eyelids flung open, abruptly. What was that?

There was this awfully familiar voice that had been calling for her all this while, seeking for immediate attention.

_Help. A plead for assistance_.

The golden-eyed female rose up reluctantly from the sheets, and stared outside the window in a daze. The sun's morning rays penetrated through the semi-transparent glass, scattering the light throughout the room and into the retinas of the particular young woman. She yawned, and stretched the muscles of her body. It was a sign of showing boredom, perhaps- the same old morning every day, the same old routine every single day that passes.

Arieanna G. Jacques, aged 23, whose birth date lies sometime in the month of November, is a French journalist and a freelance photographer. She has a pair of amethyst eyes close to the hue of golden, well since most people tend to depict it as golden- either way she wouldn't mind long ebony brown hair tumbled down her shoulders and ended right at the edge of her rear side. Her fair skin would shine radiantly at the friendly touch of the sunlight or even the reflected light from the moon.

As a journalist, and a French one to top it off, beauty is essential. Practically, she had no choice but to appear as such and that would only be successful with the help of MAC foundations, compact powders and concealers. At least she managed to learn something from the path of life she had chosen- most people are still judging one another by their looks and not their hearts.

She is fond with pretty people, rich and handsome men, but none of them took the whole interest in her in terms of friendship and kindness. People in her life live in porcelain masks and love them- and she's definitely going to be one of them if she keeps on living a life like this until the very end.

_Even so, only God knows what would happen to her soon. Later. The day after tomorrow._

Polaroids seemed to scatter everywhere on the coffee table, followed by the sight of a Nikon D3000 placed beside her bed, right under the classical vintage table lamp. She grabbed the camera and snapped a picture of her black velvet covered legs against the crumpled cream comforter.

"One picture every single morning" serves as a permanent habit. And it can never be replaced with anything in this whole wide world.

She hopped off the bed and went straight to the bathroom for a shower, nearly slamming the door behind her back.

Like she always did.


	2. Prompt 02, Airport's Godiva

**Love, Coffee and Polaroids**

A female French journalist and a freelance photographer, Arieanna makes L Lawliet as the subject of her photography as he seldom rings the bells from her forgotten past. And it turns out that L knows better. LxOC.

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**Prompt 2:** **Airport's Godiva**

_Departure – Japan : 1430_

The ebony brown haired woman took a glimpse at her watch. Another two hours to go, not bad. She took a short stroll around the National Airport's line of stores, mostly being French's souvenir heavens, while still carrying the luggage in her hands. For about one hour or so, she would be lining up at one of the counters to settle passport matters and leave the luggage to the airport staffs.

And there was this International Chocolate Store, hosting multiple brands of chocolate from all over the world- the grade A ones, nothing less.

Arieanna stepped into the store and looked for the most appealing - that is, the Diva of confectionary, Godiva chocolates. She smiled slightly at the pleasant sight of it, and took a box with her to accompany her inside the airplane.

**Thank you, here's your change, miss**. The cashier spoke in a thick French accent.

She kept the remaining cash inside the side pocket of her beige trench coat and smiled back at the handsome cashier guy. He had almost the same set of golden eyes as her but with red auburn hair, and it was probably dyed earlier since it didn't look little less original to her.

The monumental sight of Eiffel Tower had gradually decreased, as the plane departed from the airport and moved far, far away from the land of romance and love thus flew up, up and away to the sapphire skies of heaven. Or so she thought. She believed that the skies are a close metaphorical image of heaven, being so white and pure, as if nothing could tarnish the purity and put a scar on it for life.

Arieanna took a glimpse of the man sitting beside her. His appearance didn't exactly reflect the image of someone worthy to board a business-class airline, he looked far from it. He was a peculiar man, whose hair was ebony black, in a darker hue than hers and a skin pale as a person suffering from a serious life-threatening disease.

Nonetheless, he looked like a very interesting subject of art and she couldn't help but to react to it. She put aside her desire to indulge in the box of Godiva and cunningly but secretly devised a plan.

She took her camera and snapped a picture of him in that instant, probably just wanting to test his reaction. And it turned out she had experienced the most awkward moment ever in occurrence of the nonsensical act.

**What exactly are you trying to do, Mademoiselle?** The man spoke in fluent French, which made her quite relieved because she wouldn't want to hear a series of bickering in an absolute foreign language. That would be so downright annoying.

She quickly stuffed her camera inside her bag and smiled. **You seem like an interesting subject to deal with, Monsieur Panda. **

The man looked at her solemnly with his panda-like eyes, and it trigged a something that felt like a piece of memory to a certain golden-eyed woman sitting beside him.

_I feel weird…_


End file.
